


if i kiss you where it's sore

by changgus



Category: Pentagon (Korea Band)
Genre: Face-Fucking, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:55:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25679959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/changgus/pseuds/changgus
Summary: The past seven weeks have been an endless loop of grueling dance practices, Hyunggu’s voice sayingone more time, Hwitaek’s sayingdo that part again. Meetings, practice, camera rehearsals, filming, and then back again. Shinwon barely even remembers what the inside of his bedroom looks like.
Relationships: Ko Shinwon/Yang Hongseok
Comments: 16
Kudos: 54
Collections: The DS9CU





	if i kiss you where it's sore

**Author's Note:**

> watched pentory #111, blacked out, wrote this - hope y'all enjoy!

The past seven weeks have been an endless loop of grueling dance practices, Hyunggu’s voice saying _one more time_ , Hwitaek’s saying _do that part again_. Meetings, practice, camera rehearsals, filming, and then back again. Shinwon barely even remembers what the inside of his bedroom looks like.

Every time he catches himself in the mirror there are new bruises, muscles hurt that he didn’t even realize he had, and his eyes are heavy with lack of sleep. Basquiat is just another step, one more push towards something they are all craving. Practice runs longer, adrenaline carrying them through when determination alone can’t. It’s like they’re all afraid if they stop moving they’ll be too tired to ever start again. 

And that is how it starts, Hongseok’s hands guiding him through the motions of the choreography. It’s less that Hongseok knows more than he does or has any more confidence but more a reason to touch, to lean. They hold each other up like rafters. 

He’s not even serious, really, the first time. He’s laughing against the back of Shinwon’s neck about how this is just like being at the gym as he grabs hold of his arms. 

“Lat pull-down,” Hongseok pulls his arms back and Shinwon can feel the stretch in his shoulders, “Seated row,” another pull, Hongseok’s hands warm where they skim under his sleeves, “Barbell row.”

And Shinwon laughs too, leaning into the pressure even though he’s making a face like he doesn’t like it. When Hongseok walks away Shinwon rolls his shoulders like he’s rolling off the feeling.

They get back to practice and Hyunggu’s trying to stay sharp but he’s been swapping out Salonpas on the back of his neck with regularity and keeps missing the finer details. He’s getting frustrated, with himself, with the lack of sleep, with the little ways Shinwon keeps stumbling. He’s still smiling, trying his best like they all are to just keep it moving, but it’s hard.

Shinwon’s running through the arm movements but not quite getting them. Changgu and Wooseok are struggling too, though their faces are much more earnest as they go through the motions.

Back when they were all younger, this would have gone differently. At least three hours sooner, Hyunggu’s frustration would’ve boiled over and that would’ve set off Hwitaek and the two of them would be enough to take down everyone else with them like bowling pins, spinning out from the force of it. There are still times they’ll fight, when things get just a little too much, but it’s different now. It’s easier for all of them to read each other, to soothe the storm before it breaks.

“Ah, this is hard.” Shinwon whines to Changgu as they both do the same arm movement and then break into smiles when it doesn’t quite line up. Changgu is mid-reaching out to put his hand on Shinwon’s arm in commiseration when Shinwon can feel Hongseok come up behind him again. The first time might have been a joke, but this is different. Hongseok is still laughing behind him, with them, but he’s digging his thumbs into the base of Shinwon’s spine, fingers curling just above his hips.

Changgu goes to try the choreography again and Shinwon follows but Hongseok keeps his hands on him the entire time. However Shinwon moves, Hongseok is there like an anchor, firm and solid. He catches their reflection in the floor-to-ceiling mirror, slightly hidden behind the other members, but just clear enough that Shinwon can’t help but think about the way their bodies might slot together if Hongseok took just one step forward. 

Shinwon forces his eyes to Changgu and they go through the movements again, slowly but surely syncing up. Maybe it’s the way his muscles loosen under Hongseok’s fingers, or the way he can feel his eyes on the side of his face, but everything starts to feel easier.

He doesn’t quite know how to put words to the feelings, but he does know that he likes it when Hongseok gets like this. He likes the way Hongseok will cling if he’s paying too much attention to someone else, the way he can feel the dip of Hongseok’s thumbs into his sore muscles whenever he’s looking at Changgu too much now. It makes him feel special, important, like he is someone worth wanting, worth having. It feels _good_.

While in many ways they’ve all learned how to make things easier for each other, Shinwon and Hongseok have also learned exactly how to press each other’s buttons, how to rile each other up. 

“Changgu-yah,” Shinwon says, stepping back into Hongseok’s space, trapping his hands between them. “Show me that other part again.”

And Changgu does, smile sun-bright cracking his mouth. And Hongseok kneads into the knotted muscles of his spine. 

If they were alone, without five pairs of eyes to answer to, Hongseok could dip his fingers into the waistband of Shinwon’s joggers, his hands are low enough. He could rock his knuckles into the bare skin. But they’re not alone, and Hwitaek calls for them to take it from the top, so Hongseok lets go. 

Practice ends with Shinwon flat on his back in the middle of the floor, hardwood cold and pressing where his shirt is damp with sweat. His chest rises and falls in a rhythm out of his control. All he can think about now is how good a shower will feel and if he’ll be able to convince Hwitaek to order chicken with him later from the place with the good fries even though they’re all supposed to be watching their diets.

Hongseok nudges his side with the toe of his sneaker and Shinwon blinks up at him. The ceiling lights cast a halo around him, dotting into Shinwon’s vision.

“You staying?”

Shinwon thinks again of that shower, tries to remember the last time he changed his sheets or at least the towel he keeps over his pillow. 

“Are you?” He covers his eyes with his hand, trying to see Hongseok better through the light. 

Outside the rising sun bleeds through under the blinds of the windows, warmth against the cool practice room lights. Orange against blue. Hongseok squats down, hugging his knees as he takes a long sip from his protein shake.

“Hui hyung is, Hyunggu too.”

It takes a minute for Shinwon to understand what he’s saying, watching as Hongseok wipes a stray bit of shake from his mouth with the back of his hand, but when it clicks he smiles, slow and lazy. 

“I’m good to go home.” Shinwon holds his hand out daintily like he’s asking Hongseok for a dance and Hongseok pulls him up. 

They spend the van ride home tucked in the back seat, making small talk with their manager while Hongseok runs his hand up Shinwon’s thigh just out of view. And this started as a joke too, mouths laughing about letting off steam, hands telling the truth. 

When they get inside, Hongseok drags Shinwon straight to the bathroom, turning the water to scalding as they hurry out of their clothes. In all of the times they’ve done this, Hongseok rarely kisses him. Maybe the third time, he had, messy and mostly teeth, bruising. Shinwon had initiated overall that time, dragging Hongseok into a backroom at a music show, feeling all too pent up and like he just needed _something_. Hongseok had connected their mouths around a whine and Shinwon was never sure if it meant something or if it was just to swallow the sound. 

Hongseok’s got him backed up against the tile wall now, mouth open in the crook of his neck and thigh shoved up between his legs. And it’s not about him really, Shinwon thinks, more about the need for something other than your own hand. If they both say it enough times, they can both keep believing it.

It doesn’t matter anyway because what matters is that Hongseok’s hand _does_ feel better than his own, especially when he’s got it wrapped around both of them at once. Shinwon bucks into the pressure, gripping one hand into Hongseok’s hair just to anchor himself to something, just so his legs don’t give out beneath him. With the steam of the shower fogging his brain, it’s easy for Shinwon to let his mind wander to other things. Like Hongseok’s mouth, like what Hongseok would look like on his knees for him, working him with his lips instead of his fingers. 

And sometimes he indulges in a different fantasy - Hongseok kissing him out in the living room, catching his hand during practice like a secret, climbing into his bed at night. This one he doesn’t let himself think of often, but he’s so fucking tired and every single one of his muscles feels like tightly knotted rope, about to snap from the tension, and so he lets himself go just this once. 

In this fantasy it is not about convenience, it’s not about how fast or how quietly or if anyone else is around, how bad practice has been that day, how deeply they feel the exhaustion in their bones. It’s about something heavier, slower, something that burns right in Shinwon’s chest. 

Shinwon comes over Hongseok’s fingers, knocks his hand away to replace it with his own until Hongseok follows.

The sound of Hongseok’s stuttering breath in his ear buzzes through his entire body, the high whine keening from his throat slipping under Shinwon’s skin. It was awkward, the first time, after, when they’d both finished and couldn’t look each other in the eye, unsure of how things had changed. Now, it’s easy, comfortable. They finish washing up and change into fresh clothes. Hongseok makes a joke in the hallway as they head for their separate rooms.

It’s just getting dark out by the time Shinwon wakes from his nap feeling bleary-eyed and lost, but he _does_ convince Hwitaek to order chicken with him, so it’s the little things. His limbs are still heavy with sleep as he takes the boxes from the delivery man and shuffles them to the coffee table in the living room. 

This has been the routine all week - get home as the sun is rising, wake up just as it sets, get back to work. Rinse, repeat. Sometimes he gets a few hours in to try to feel like a person, but sometimes it feels like he’s wasting his time. He doesn’t remember what a normal sleep schedule even is. 

He tucks himself in the space between the table and the couch, folding his legs in until he’s small enough to fit.

“Shinwon-ah,” Hwitaek says, settling himself down and pulling open one of the greasy cardboard boxes. “Are you okay?”

“Hm?”

“You just seemed tired today.” He looks at Shinwon as he bites into his chicken, held carefully between his fingers.

“You’re one to talk, hyung.”

“That’s different.” Hwitaek wipes his lips with the back of his hand. Even with a little concealer left blotted on his skin, Shinwon can see how dark the bags are under his eyes. As hard as all of them are working, Hwitaek is always going the extra mile, always just going.

“Yeah, when’s the last time you slept?”

Hwitaek pauses mid-bite and looks up, lips pursed, like he has to think about it. Grimaces when he realizes that’s answer enough. Shinwon shoves the box of fries in his direction. 

“Anyway, this is about you.” Hwitaek jabs a chicken wing in Shinwon’s direction for emphasis.

“Does it have to be?”

He’s saved by the front door jingling open, Hongseok and Hyunggu filing in with iced coffee in hand. They’re mid-conversation, Hongseok’s laughter cutting bright into the room before Shinwon can even see him. 

There’s a moment where it seems like Hwitaek might not drop it, still eyeing Shinwon with concern, but he gets distracted by Hyunggu leaning down to snatch the fry from his hand on the way to his mouth.

“Hey,” Hwitaek whines. “That’s mine.”

“Ya, you should’ve said you were ordering.” Hyunggu whines back, dropping himself down next to Hwitaek properly. 

Hongseok slides around to crowd into Shinwon’s space. Unlike Hyunggu he ignores the food spread on the table in favor of resting his cheek against Shinwon’s shoulder, taking a long sip from his latte. The ice clinks together and Shinwon thinks there’s something to Hongseok’s self-control that he just doesn’t understand. Shinwon tilts his head so his cheek brushes against the top of Hongseok’s hair, just for a moment.

He can feel Hyunggu’s eyes on him, watching, but he refuses to meet them. Hyunggu is good at reading people, has an emotional vocabulary that Shinwon could not even begin to parse for himself, and more than that he’s nosy and believes he has some former roommate privileges in the form of direct access to Shinwon’s business. Which maybe he does, but Shinwon’s certainly not going to _say_ that. 

On the other hand Hwitaek is oblivious, not because he doesn’t care but he just doesn’t see. 

“Hongseok-ah,” Hwitaek reaches out and jostles Hongseok’s arm. The ice in his coffee clinks again. “One bite won’t kill you.”

Shinwon watches Hongseok’s face shift, watches him bite back a joke about how it might.

Later it’s just the two of them left in the living room but they’ve moved to the couch now, throw blanket tossed over both of their laps and Hongseok’s head still tucked against Shinwon’s shoulder. On the TV old reruns of Running Man flicker through and every time Hongseok laughs Shinwon can feel the vibration through his whole body. 

Sometimes being with Hongseok is easy, like knowing all the words to his favorite song or following the beats of a show he’s seen a hundred times. Other times Shinwon feels like someone slapped him with the variety show big head effect and forgot to ever turn it off, like he is in every way too big for his body, like if he ever stops to think about what it all means his chest will collapse under the weight of it. 

It’s easier to keep things close to his chest. He’s always been better with actions than words.

The episode plays on and under the blanket, he takes Hongseok’s hand. 

Shinwon doesn’t really think, getting ready for practice, just grabs whatever smells clean and is light enough for him to not sweat his ass off. Which he’ll do anyway but at least if his clothes start fresh he’ll feel less disgusting about it.

The track pants are tight, but comfortable, and more importantly they’re a neon blue. He likes the loudness of them. He’d cut the sleeves off this particular Harry Styles shirt one night sitting in the middle of his bedroom floor, still sharing with Hyunggu at the time, who had been sitting cross-legged on their bed engaging in a DIY fashion project of his own. Now the armholes have stretched even further, from time and endless runs in the wash, exposing his ribcage anytime he moves.

He knows Hongseok has noticed, can feel him looking. When they take a break to cool down, Hongseok wraps his arm around Shinwon’s waist, lets his fingers skim the bare skin.

Shinwon thinks he’s lucky they all touch so easily. He didn’t always like it, still has his days when he’s not in the mood to have someone else’s stray hand playing with the strings of his ripped jeans or clutching his fingers while he’s trying to fuck around on his phone, but he’s grateful for it even then.

And since he and Hongseok have started their, well, whatever it is, it has felt like safety. No one has to know that his heart beats different when it’s Hongseok’s hands, nothing has to change.

Practice goes in fits and starts today. Hongseok keeps tripping over his own feet like he hasn’t spent hours and hours going over every single step. Hyunggu flits between encouragement and bubbling frustration. 

They make it through three more runs before he decides he’s had enough.

“Let’s call it early tonight.” Hyunggu says after a moment of calculation, face tight and serious. He rolls his neck once, twice, his shoulders next. His shirt clings where he’s sweat through it. “We’ll start earlier tomorrow.”

They probably are in a good place, objectively, though none of them really feel like it’s the truth. But if _Hyunggu_ is willing to call it early then none of them can argue with him about it. Shinwon checks the time on his phone. Four AM. Early. As in before the sun has risen, while it’s still dark outside the company building. 

“I think I’m going to hang back,” Hongseok announces to nobody in particular, wiping his face with the bottom of his shirt. “For a little bit anyway.”

Shinwon presses his water bottle against his forehead just to feel something cold. He doesn’t want to stay today, is sick of the inside of the practice room. He’s sick of the harsh lights and the company logo printed on the back wall and the way his knee hits the hardwood everytime he and Changgu do their part. But he doesn’t want to leave Hongseok alone either, or maybe it’s not about Hongseok and he’s being selfish, either way he makes his decision quickly.

“I’m gonna stay too. Just for a little bit.” He catches Hongseok’s eye from across the room and can’t read his expression. Hyunggu looks between the two of them for a moment, suspicious, and purses his lips but seems to decide against saying whatever’s brewing in his mind. 

They continue to practice as everyone else filters out, keep going after too even though it’s clear neither of their hearts are in it, keep going just long enough to be sure no one’s coming back for a forgotten wallet or out of the usual guilt over sleeping when they could be working.

Shinwon watches through the mirror as Hongseok comes up behind him, presses his forehead to the back of Shinwon’s neck. Hongseok slides his hand through the gap of Shinwon’s shirt, rests his palm over the flat of Shinwon’s belly.

“Been thinking about this all day.” Hongseok breathes out, pressing his nose in where Shinwon’s neck meets his shoulder. 

And Shinwon is tired, body feeling like it’s melting out of its mold. He leans into Hongseok’s chest, tilts his head to give better access. Hongseok drags his lips over the skin and in the mirror it looks like something it’s probably not and that snaps a coil inside of him.

“You can’t just-” Shinwon runs his hand over Hongseok’s where it’s still pressed against him. He threads their fingers together without thinking. “You can’t just say shit.”

“I’m not.” Hongseok pulls his hand back suddenly and uses the surprise to turn Shinwon to face him. His eyebrows are knit together like when he’s serious, jaw tensed too like he really needs Shinwon to understand. “I’m not just saying shit.”

The first time they fooled around Shinwon felt like he had accidentally told a secret, that deep feeling of embarrassment of revealing too much when you hadn’t meant to. It had felt like one thing to joke about it, another to actually do it, and another thing still to think Hongseok might have looked into his face after and been able to read him like an open book, fingers tracing over worn pages. 

This is why they’ve never talked about it, because if Shinwon doesn’t know if Hongseok knows then he can pretend the feelings aren’t real at all. If they don’t name them they don’t exist, is what he thinks. It can be as it was meant to be - easy, convenient, _we’re both just stressed right?_

“Shinwon-ah,” Hongseok cups Shinwon’s face in his hands and he again feels the burn of embarrassment in his chest as Hongseok looks him over. Shinwon wants to look anywhere else, so he settles on the wrinkle between Hongseok’s brows. “I want you to kiss me.”

“You...want me to kiss you?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” Hongseok smiles, bright and toothy. Shinwon squints and tries to remember if he bounced his head off the floor at some point during practice or maybe the lack of sleep is finally catching up with him. 

But Hongseok is still holding his face and his hands are warm and solid and real. He has Shinwon caged in and in his eyes is a question Shinwon has been asking himself on loop for months now. Shinwon leans in and answers.

He realizes very quickly that thinking about kissing Hongseok and actually kissing Hongseok are two very different things and he’d like to make up for all the time he wasted doing the first by doing the second over and over and over again. Hongseok kisses him slow and teasing, like he knows this is just the start of something, that Shinwon will let him take as much as he wants as long as he’s the one taking it. 

Hongseok slips his hands into Shinwon’s shirt again, pushing against the bare skin of his lower back to drive their hips together. This part is more familiar, this part Shinwon could do in his sleep. Shinwon knows the ways Hongseok likes to move, to touch. He grinds his hips slow as he licks into Hongseok’s mouth, drinking in every breathy whine. 

When they finally pull apart, Shinwon’s lips are tingling. Hongseok leans their foreheads together and Shinwon can still taste him.

“Been thinking about something else too.” Hongseok says so close that Shinwon feels every word against his lips. Shinwon wants to close the space again, wants to crawl inside of Hongseok and live there.

“Yeah?”

Instead of answering, Hongseok kisses him again, and then drags his lips down and across his cheek, peppering kisses along his jaw and then down his neck. He’s careful not to linger too long in any one spot, careful not to leave marks. But he’s also dragging it out, working Shinwon up.

Shinwon catches sight of them in the mirror again but this time he sees the way his lips are spit-slick and pink, the way the muscles move in Hongseok’s jaw as he presses wet, open-mouthed kisses to his skin. Hongseok kisses him on the mouth again, sweeter this time, and pulls his bottom lip into his mouth with his teeth.

Before Shinwon can really register what’s happening, Hongseok sinks down on his knees and tucks his fingers into the waistband of Shinwon’s track pants. 

“This.” Hongseok tugs down on the fabric, pulling slowly until it clears his underwear and then further, past the catch of his knees until it pools down at his ankles. “Since you walked in last night.”

“Fuck.” Shinwon’s brain is buzzing so loud he thinks it might start leaking out of his ears.

“Is that a yes?”

“Fuck,” Shinwon breathes out through his nose, tilts his head back and tries to steady himself. “Yes.”

Hongseok takes the permission for what it is and yanks his underwear down in one clean motion. He sucks a kiss into the crease of Shinwon’s thigh and laughs when Shinwon instinctively grabs his hair. The huff of his breath against the wet skin is enough to make Shinwon dizzy.

Wanting is something Shinwon is familiar with, that desperate ache deep in the pit of him. He wanted to move to Seoul, he wanted to make a name for himself, and once he had been casted, had wanted to stand by these people no matter the cost. He knows what it means to work hard and to run until his legs give out. He also knows how easy it is to lose, how quickly everything can be taken away. He carries the weight of elimination like a brand, thinks of everything that’s been taken since.

So it’s never been about wanting Hongseok, but about losing him. About what wanting him and having him actually means, not just for him but for both of them.

Hongseok drags his mouth along the side of Shinwon’s shaft and Shinwon thinks that they can figure out the rest together, because he wants to have this in every way Hongseok will let him.

Shinwon holds onto Hongseok like he is a ship at sea and Hongseok is the only thing keeping him steady. Hongseok takes him into his mouth fully, hollowing his cheeks as he pulls up. For all the times Shinwon has fantasized about exactly this, the actual heat of Hongseok’s mouth around his cock is so much better.

He lets Shinwon set the pace, lets his jaw go slack so Shinwon can fuck into his open mouth easier. Every push of his hips drags a whine, high and tight, from the back of Hongseok’s throat. It’s hard for Shinwon to think, to control himself. His cock slides out of Hongseok’s mouth and smears against his cheek. Hongseok’s full lips are wet and he runs his tongue over them once before going back in, using his hand to make up for where his mouth can’t reach. 

Shinwon comes down the back of his throat, hips stuttering with the force of it. He drops to his own knees so he can crush their lips together again.

Blindly Shinwon reaches for Hongseok’s own waistband, messily shoving his joggers halfway down his thighs just so he can get his hand around him. There are so many other things he wants to do, wants to try, but for now he pumps his fist down Hongseok’s length quick and dirty. It doesn’t take long for Hongseok to come into his hand and Shinwon swallows down each and every sound he makes until they’re panting into each other’s mouths.

“We should probably clean up.” Hongseok says after a few moments, when their breathing has started to even. 

“Yeah.”

“And go home.”

“Yeah.”

Shinwon’s eyes are closed tight but he feels when Hongseok shifts, the soft pressure of his hand against his cheek. Hongseok rubs soft circles into his skin with his thumb.

“Hey,” Hongseok’s voice is gentle and Shinwon leans into it. When Shinwon opens his eyes it looks like Hongseok is going to say something else, but thinks better of it. Instead, he presses a short kiss into the side of his face and then pulls him up by the hand.

Shinwon keeps catching himself smiling.

They get home as the sun is coming up and the whole apartment is flooded with golden light. It’s quiet except for the shuffle of them slipping out of their shoes, their socked feet on the hardwood. This is when Shinwon starts to feel vulnerable, feel like his skin has been peeled back and every single one of his thoughts is on display. He stands in the hall and wants to ask for something, but is afraid to.

He doesn’t need to though, because Hongseok takes his hand, knits their fingers together in a beam of early morning light bleeding in through the patio. He kisses Shinwon again right there in the living room, sweet and sure.

He doesn’t let go of his hand when he pulls away, grin wide and exposing his crooked front teeth, or as he pulls Shinwon down the hall to his room, or as they curl together in his bed. Hongseok holds their locked hands to his chest like Shinwon is something precious.

Hongseok looks at him through the fan of his lashes and for once Shinwon lets himself both want and have.

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/gayjinho) // [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/gayjinho)


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